I was fierce and I was threatening, with spiky outer shell and poison breath
And I made sure that the humans knew, to mess with me is always certain death.
I knew that they outnumbered me so it seemed wise to have a reputation
For viciousness and deadliness, to keep them far away from my location
But humans, I have very often found, cannot leave well enough alone.
They decided that to make me meek and docile I must straight away be shown
The way, the truth, the light, the love of Jesus, yes I must be brought to Christ
So a woman called Saint Martha came to see me, and I thought she seemed quite nice.
She told me about God, who cares about us and is watching from above
And his son who died to save us, and she said the greatest quality was love.
And the meek, she said, were blessed: I’d be happy if I’d only live in peace
With the Christian folk around me, and I really should consider it at least.
And I thought “well maybe humans aren’t so bad, if this is what they all believe,
All this charity and kindness, maybe I should go among them and receive
Their affection and their blessings, I should call them all my brothers and my friends.”
I’m afraid you can imagine just exactly how this tragic story ends
Martha led me into town upon a leash and everybody gathered there.
And I stood and waited quietly and meekly for their blessing in the square.
But instead of benedictions, they threw rocks at me, and killed me where I stood.
That’s what happens to a monster who believes, for once, that people can be good.
Tom Juniper Poetry 